


Unattached Drifter Christmas

by amusawale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusawale/pseuds/amusawale
Summary: This was filled in answer to an RPS fic prompt from anonymous on Kelleigh's 'Be Mine' comment fic.the prompt was: Spent last Valentines together but broke up afterward. Sees his ex at a party this year and wonders if they made a mistake. Up to you whether they get back together.I decided to flip it and make it wincest.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Unattached Drifter Christmas

It was Valentine’s Day the last time Sam saw Dean. His lip quirked as he recalled Dean dubbing it ‘unattached drifter Christmas’.

 _You always were the worst kind of slut_. He thought affectionately and then cut the thought off like it was a vamp head. He wasn’t going to think of Dean tonight. Or any night for that matter. When his father told him that he would basically be disowned if he went to college, he hadn’t expected Dean to speak up or protest. He’d had too many years of Dean being the ‘good son’, coming between him and John and trying to cool them off when the arguments got too heated.

But he’d never, ever, taken his side against John’s.

So yeah, he had not been surprised when Dean just watched as John cut him out of the family. He had also _not_ been surprised when Dean called to see if he’d arrived okay in California. When he’d get a notification from Western Union to pick up some cash ( _come with some form of ID_ ) he’d just huff in annoyance and pick up his student card.

His first Christmas was spent working at the local coffee shop which was surprisingly busy. Turned out lots of people had no one to spend the holidays with. The lack of at least a text from Dean had worried him.

_Is he on a hunt?_

_Is he hurt?_

He couldn’t stop the acid from churning in his gut, couldn’t help how he kept checking his phone, just in case he’d missed it vibrating against his thigh. He’d almost broken down and called Dean that night, just to make sure there was still someone at the end of the precarious thread that linked them.

Instead, he’d bought a bottle of whisky and gotten white girl wasted. He didn’t have much memory from the next two days but he hadn’t choked on his own vomit or gotten arrested for drunk and disorderly behaviour so he counted it as a win.

On New Year’s eve, the coffee house manager invited everyone over to his house to ring in the start of 2004. Sam shrugged, thinking that he had nothing better to do anyway. That was until he stepped out of his dorm and saw Dean leaning against the impala, one ankle crossed over the other, looking pensively into the distance. Chevrolet paid models to take pictures like the one Dean presented right now. Sam just stood there, staring at him, his heart heavy in his chest. He felt as if an elephant was sitting on his breastplate, making it impossible to breathe.

Dean turned, saw him, smirked.

Sam just stood there, feeling as if his legs could barely hold him up let alone walk the few meters that would bring him to his brother. He had not realized how truly worried he’d been until he’d clapped eyes on Dean.

His brother was alive.

And well.

And a raging asshole.

“Hey Sammy…” he gave that signature side smile that simultaneously made Sam feel annoyed, reassured, safe and something else he could not name but which had his stomach twisting into knots.

“Dean.”

He didn’t know how but suddenly he was enveloped in Dean’s arms and then they were in the Impala, driving away, Sam not even bothering to find out where they were going.

Of course, he tried to sulk. Tried to convey without words the hurt, the rejection, the angst he’d been laboring under. Dean wasn’t having it. He pressed drinks into Sam’s hands, got them in a fight with some yuppies that Sam enjoyed way too much and then drove off at speed before the cops got to the dive bar.

It was like Sam had never left.

When midnight rolled around they were sitting under the stars, drinking stolen beer as they rested against the impala. Dean leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sam’s cheek.

“Happy New Year baby brother.”

Sam turned his head and looked into his brother’s eyes. He pressed forward without thinking and their lips were touching each other, Dean’s soft yet dry – he needed to use some lip gloss for sure. It was distracting being this close to his brother. He had no idea what he was doing.

Dean just let him.

Of course, he did.

Sam pulled back and looked Dean in the eyes. His brother looked calmly back.

“Where have you been Dean?”

Dean sighed, turning to lean back against the impala and take a sip of his drink. “I’ve been hunting.” He said quietly, “and you’ve been studying. Like you wanted right?”

“I didn’t want…this.” Sam waved his hands about to encompass their entire messed up situation.

“Yeah well…” Dean shrugged.

Sam grabbed onto his jacket…Dad’s jacket…too big for Dean, too much of a reminder of everything Sam couldn’t have.

“I can’t…” he stopped, shook his head.

Dean turned to face him, stared into his eyes. His hand snaked around Sam’s neck and he was pulling him close, lips latching onto Sam’s, tongue questing tentatively at his mouth, asking for entry. Sam parted his lips, giving permission. He wanted to moan into Dean’s mouth. Wanted to call his name. But he didn’t want to stop long enough to do that. He needed this. Needed the closeness, the safety, the everything of Dean’s embrace.

It ended too soon. With the sudden burst of Metallica from Dean’s pocket. Phone call.

Dean dug in his pockets.

 _What do I have in my pocketssesss? My precious_.

Sam snorted to himself at the thought. Dean looked at his phone and his face dropped. Dad then. Time for Dean to go be daddy’s blunt little instrument again.

“I gotta…” he began to say but Sam was already getting to his feet and crossing over to the passenger side.

“Take me back to my dorm.” His voice was cold. Angry. He didn’t want to be, but he couldn’t help himself. Why did he always have to be Dean’s last choice?

A month of nothing and then Dean was back again…on Valentine’s Day of all days. With a bunch of roses – red and loud as fuck. He even had a box of chocolates _and_ a teddy bear. He stared at Sam with wide eyes as if there was any possibility of Sam turning him away.

“What?” Sam asked even as he stepped back and let Dean in to his room.

“I know how you like this cheesy shit so I thought I’d drop by and-” Dean shrugged, the rest self-explanatory as he placed the flowers and chocolate on the desk, and then threw the teddy on the bed. He looked around with interest, never having been inside Sam’s room.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks.” Sam’s voice was just as dry as Dean’s.

“Where’s your roommate?”

“Probably passed out drunk somewhere.”

“Mm, making the most of his college experience. You could do with following his example Sam. Have you even been to any college parties?”

“What are you doing here, Dean?” Sam didn’t have time for Dean’s shit.

Dean lifted his lashes, met Sam’s eyes, his own uncharacteristically serious. “I came to see you.”

“Why?”

The pregnant pause stretched between them with tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Because I missed you, Sam,” Dean said quietly.

“I missed you too.” The words just vomited from Sam’s mouth without his permission.

“Well then?”

“Well then, what Dean? You drop by every now and then, fuck with my head and then disappear without a word as soon as Dad calls? I’m not one of your booty calls Dean.”

His brother’s forehead crinkled. He looked weirdly hurt by Sam’s words. “I…why would you even say that Sam?”

Sam took a step forward, using his newly acquired height to stare down at his brother, “Because it’s true.”

Dean blinked at him a few times, then his face underwent this metamorphosis. Sam could literally see the mask falling into place. It was fascinating to watch. In the blink of an eye, the cocky, swashbuckling, don’t-have-a-care-in-the-world Dean had replaced his brother.

“Fine Sam, you want me gone. I’m out. See ya whenever.” He chucked Sam the deuces and walked to the door, leaving without a word.

Sam still ate the chocolate. He kept the roses until they were dead and gone. He slept with his teddy bear, which he named Gollum. It was pathetic and he didn’t care. Dean didn’t call. He didn’t write. But he still sent money with Western Union.

365 days later, and he was at a frat party, with Jess. It was their first Valentine’s day together and they’d opted for the party because money was super tight. Sam watched as Jess danced with her friends, smiling every time she looked toward him.

“She’s hot. You did good.”

He stiffened, not having to turn to know who that voice belonged to. He took a deep breath, willing his hands to stop trembling. He could not look at his brother. He might…die…if he did.

Dean was here.

Dean was _here_.

Goddamn fucking _hell_!

Dean was here.

“The silent treatment? Really Sam? Even for you this is taking sulking a bit far.”

He turned, already glaring, his lips pursed, freak out forgotten. “Fuck you, Dean.”

“Mmmm, I don’t think your girlfriend would approve. But I’m open to suggestions.”

“Oh, my bad. I meant, fuck off Dean.”

His brother smiled. “God, it’s good to see you, Sam. Look at you with the shoulders and the hair…I’m proud of you.”

In spite of himself, Sam felt his insides turn to mush. “I see you’re here for your yearly mind fuck.”

“Sammy, did anyone ever tell you, you use the word fuck way too much? It’s very unimaginative. Especially for a college student.”

“Soo many three-dollar words for a hunter. What, you spend your downtime reading the dictionary?”

“Why? Do you? Because that would explain a lot.”

His brother was teasing him like they were copacetic or something. Sam just wanted to strangle him. Dean leaned in closer. “Hey, how about you use some of that excess energy you’re suppressing in a more productive way huh? Meet me outside? You can beat me up if you want.”

The thought was very tempting.

“I’m on a date, Dean.”

His brother shrugged and looked him in the eye. “Okay then. Just remember, I offered. Goodbye Sam.”

Sam stiffened, unable to believe that Dean would just…go like that. He turned to the dance floor where Jess was grinding against Brady and then turned to look behind him. Dean had already disappeared. He rushed toward the door and was just in time to see the Impala speeding off into the sunset.

“Dean.” He whispered. A mantra, a prayer, a wail of despair.

He turned and went back to the party.


End file.
